


Prowl snaps

by OpMSound



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Am bad at tags sue me, Cannabalism depending on ya perspective, Hearing voices/hallucinations, M/M, Near Death Experience, Other tags to be added, Poor Prowl, Recovering from severe injuries, Revenge, disappearence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-08-20 15:06:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16558037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpMSound/pseuds/OpMSound
Summary: During a rare peaceful day at Autobot HQ the 'cons decide to attack with a single goal in mind that causes a series of events that have severe repercussions for the Decepticons.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Well this is a sort of prologue for this story and I posted the first chapter at the same time since it happened to also get written.
> 
> This is one of those stories that I tend to write when stuck on a chapter for my story 'Taken' I hope you enjoy it and I am only half sorry for the first actual chapter xd.

Prowl was in his office at Autobot headquarters located in Iacon slaving away at the seemingly endless stacks of datapads scattered about his desk and as usual it was dragging on far past the end of his actual shift.

Unlike most Autobots he didn’t mind doing paperwork that much, he finds it can actually be rather calming after a stressful battle against the Decepticons or long orn, that’s not to say that it doesn’t drive him completely insane sometimes, like right now for example.

Prowl growled lowly in frustration as he glares at the stack of datapads that doesn’t seem to have gotten even a little smaller even after spending joors on it. Right now he just wanted to say ‘screw it’ and go back to his quarters and curl up with his lithe black and white lover on their berth for a nice, long recharge.

This orn has been particularly stressful, one of the worst he has ever experienced in all the time he’s been second in command of the Autobots. The Decepticons had decided that it was the perfect time to attack Iacon early, on the orn when he, for once, was recharging in before his shift later in the evening with Jazz who also did not have a shift till later in the orn, waking them both from one of the most pleasant recharges he has had in awhile.

Then after the battle was over and they had all been checked over by Ratchet, First Aid or another medic for any injuries the twins had gotten into a brawl with all of the minibots almost as soon as they had all been released  from the medbay, deemed fully repaired and healthy, he still isn’t completely sure on what exactly had started the fight, especially so quickly after a battle and of course he had needed to go and separate them, throwing them into the brig as per protocol.

Then an accident in Wheeljack's lab blew up both the mech and the entirety of his lab in a multi-coloured explosion that managed to shake at least half of the base and he, as second in command,  was required to go down there and check on the damage and any other problems that has arisen as a result, he even had to convince Ratchet to actually repair Wheeljack as he was refusing to do so after needing to repair all the mech and femmes from the battle and then the twins and minis not one joor after they had left his medbay and in his words;

‘Why the  _ slag _ should I repair mechs for being Primus forsaken gliches making glitched mistakes and decisions!’

That had taken half a joor and had added to his, by then, growing processor ache.

If that wasn’t enough one of Jazz's operatives had appeared with vital information and intelligence that needed to be discussed immediately so a meeting had been called that lasted for several joors. He had then needed to take the new information and alter any future plans or strategies to include what they had learned.

In short, he was thoroughly done with this orn and he’s hoping, nearly  _ praying _ , that his mate drops by to ‘convince’ him to stop working for the day and head to their quarters and to be perfectly honest it wouldn’t take much convincing.

As he sighs and turns backs to the report he’s currently reading and then, as if summoned by magic, the door to his office  _ shushes _ open and Jazz walks in with his customary grin etched on his face and Prowl can’t stop his doorwings from drooping slightly in relief at the sight of his mate, not that he’s trying hard to hide it right now.

Jazz, ever observant and seeing the normally still sensory panels droop, is instantly worried and by his mates side.

“Prowler, are ya okay?”

“Yes Jazz, I’m just tired, I’ll be fine.”

Jazz continues to look at him worriedly as he sees the Praxian mechs dimmer than usual optics and still drooping doorwings before nodding.

“If ya say so...but how ‘bout ya come back ta our quarters an’ recharge? Ya shift finished joors ago an’ ya look dead on ya pedes mech.”

Usually he would have put up a fight, even a token one for show, when asked to stop working but as he glances back at the stacks of datapads yet to be done and the one he still holds he can’t bring himself to care about appearances as he switches the datapad off placing it back on top of the stack and rises to his pedes.

“Very well.”

He almost smiles at the mildly shocked expression clearly seen on his usually unfazeable lovers face, except, he doesn’t have the energy to.

As they leave the office and he locks it Jazz stares at the larger black and white, concern thrumming in his spark at how tired he must be to so easily give in and agree to stop working and recharge like that.

He an tell that his mate is worried and as he turns around to face his mate he leans down slightly to place a chaste, reassuring, kiss on his lips in hopes to assuage his concerns a bit.

“Don’t worry Jazz, this orn has just been more tiring than usual. I just need to recharge for a bit and I’ll be perfectly fine.”

The smaller black and white studies Prowl intently for several kliks for any hint that it’s anything more than what he’s letting on, as he has a habit to hide it when he’s not feeling too good, and after picking up on nothing he relaxes, grinning up at his mate.

“Best go recharge then mech.”

And with that Jazz grabs Prowls servo and tugs him along to their quarters where they lay on their berth in much the same way as they had been that morning and drift off into a pleasant recharge in each others arms, their sparks spinning in contentment and happy being near each other as without the other they know, deep down, they would not have a will to live as they would never be happy ever again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm only half sorry for this chapter and I hope you enjoy it :)

It was a relatively calm orn at the Autobots HQ as, for once, no mechs or femmes were deciding to cause untold chaos, Wheeljack has managed to not blow himself up in 2 orns and even the twins were behaving themselves for the moment. It has even nearly been 3 decaorns since the Decepticons have launched any major attacks on Iacon and though that in itself was somewhat concerning as the only time the ‘cons go quiet for this long is usually before something disastrous happens but no one was going to let these worries corrupt and ruin such a rare and peaceful day, everybot was relaxing in their quarters, if not on duty, with friends or lovers, other bots were getting a cube of energon and chatting  in the rec room before it was their shift. Even those who are on duty were content and relaxed even though they may have been bored for getting stuck with monitor duty or some equally dull and uninteresting, however important, shift.  
  
Which is why when the alarms suddenly started blaring throughout the base followed quickly by several explosions that managed to rock HQ more than half the mechs and femmes jolted up out of wherever they were sitting completely startled and a few even let out rather undignified yelps of surprise that they swore to themselves they would never admit to making.  
  
In less than a klik the once quiet and peaceful atmosphere was shattered and replaced with pure chaos as ‘bots scrambled and ran around collecting weapons and meeting up with their squads before heading out to battle, some even cursing the ‘cons to the frelling pit for disrupting such a quiet orn.  
  
Prowl himself was cursing the Decepticons in his mind as he headed to the command centre to get more information on what is going on and how the battle is progressing and once he got that information his processor began churning out plans  as he helped direct the battle in order to drive the Decepticon away.  
  
He was cursing because the ‘cons had once again ruined the evening he had been enjoying with Jazz. They had been drinking energon as they talked and played a strategy board game in their quarters when the alarms had disturbed their orn on one of the rare tranquil days at HQ and he was not a happy mech. Not. One. Bit.  
  
This was twice in less than 4 decaorns.  
  
So it was with some slightly sense of petty revenge that he enjoyed the sight of the ‘cons retreating on the holotable in front of him several joors later, all of such enjoyment that was instantly washed away and replaced with dread as he heard Bluestreak shout “JAZZ!” over the general comms, his panic and fear clearly heard in his voice before he started to desperately call out for Ratchet to get to the saboteur and get to him NOW.  
  
After that Prowl watched almost numbly as every blip on the holotable that represented a ‘con began all retreating at once quickly and how even the ‘cons in the middle of a fight instantly pulled away at Bluestreaks yell but all Prowl could truly comprehend from that right now was that the battle was over and so he immediately took off exiting the command centre and heading straight for the medbay completely oblivious to the worried looks sent his way by the other mechs still in the command centre. His mind on nothing else except getting to Jazz and see how bad the damage is and praying to every god he could think of that it wasn’t as bad as Bluestreaks tone and words had made it out to be.  
  
So with dread in the pit of his tanks he keyed open the door to the medbay where there were curses, constant muttering and frantic sound emanating from within and walked into the medbay where he soon completely froze, his spark twisting  violently in his casing as his optics took in what they had sought out and latched onto immediately.  
  
His mate was near unrecognizable as he lay on the med berth completely covered from helm to pede in energon, all seeming to be his own. One of his arms from shoulder now was just...GONE with nothing but a few wires remaining attached as conspicuous amounts of energon flowed freely out of it some nameless medic trying desperately to stem the flow and clamp the lines. One of his legs from pede to mid-thigh might as well have been gone, the armor had been torn to shreds and ripped clean off, cables and wires mangled and sparking, it was only still attached by a couple of wires and what remained of the top half of the leg was covered in scratches and partially shredded by claws, the injury only adding to the growing pool of energon forming on the berth and dripping to the floor.  
  
His remaining arm and leg were almost completely shredded and were twisted and mangled beyond repair. His visor and optics that usually sparkled with joy and mischievousness were destroyed, fragments caught in the ugly gouge across half of his face and one of his audio horns missing.  
  
But all of that paled in comparison to the giant chasm in his chassis right where his spark is supposed to reside. It looked as though someone had literally used their servos to tear, rip and pull his chestplates open and also like someone had shot him multiple times in the chest, blowing off armor and making the remaining armor jagged, scorched and twisted, wires and lines torn and almost dangling uselessly out of his chassis. His spark was visible amidst the carnage and looked to be on the verge of extinguishing as it fluctuated wildly, it’s glow abnormally dull and subdued.  
  
It was the dingle most horrifying thing he had ever seen and from someone fighting in an increasingly violent war that’s lasting hundreds, if not thousands of vorns he has seen some horrible things but this...it was straight out of his worst nightmare and would forever haunt him.  
  
So absorbed in his horrified staring he didn’t register Optimus approaching, a bit dented and scratched but mostly unscathed, and so he jumped a little when Optimus placed a servo on his shoulder in what was probably meant to be a reassuring and comforting gesture, though it didn’t reassure him n the slightest.  
  
After a few moments of nothing but silence from the tactician Optimus spoke as softly as he could as he tried to explain what happened to the much loved saboteur.  
  
“Prowl...I’m sorry that we allowed this to happen to Jazz..” Before he could continue he was cut off as the black and white spoke his voice filled with static.  
  
“W-what DID happen? Why is-...” He cut himself off not seeming to be able to get the words out but the rime understood what he was asking though he hesitated before replying, not wanting to be the one who sent the tactician over the edge.  
  
“Jazz had gotten cut off and separated from everyone at one point during the battle and as soon as the Decepticons noticed this they began to retreat except a dozen or so of them that broke off from the main forces and all converged on Jazz surrounding him too quickly for anyone to stop it and they...they all attacked him at once so by the time anyone could reach and help him it was already too late...the rest of the Decepticons that had been lagging behind then retreated as soon as it was done and they were gone in the next klik. I believe that their target for this battle was...Jazz.”  
  
Prowl didn’t give any acknowledgement that he had heard a word bt Optimus knew that he had and decided that it may be best to leave the praxian alone for a while and so with a final sqeeze of Prowls shoulder he turned to leave and check on some of the other ‘bots that had been injured.  
  
However, as he was leaving the loud unmistakable sound of a long unfaltering one filled the area and Optimus snapped back around to see that the screen that was monitoring Jazz’s spark had flatlined and that ratchet was muttering quietly to himself asking in a near pleading tone for Jazz to come back and hang on as he tried everything he knew to revive the smaller black and white saboteur but a breem passed...then another...then 2 more and Ratchet still hadn’t succeeded in resuscitating the mech.   
  
Prowl stared at the events unfolding before him his spark going numb and cold in his casing as yet another breen ticked by, passed the point where reviving a spark became impossible and Prowls world came crashing down around him almost, broken and frozen but as what he was seeing began to sink it the world came rushing back and it felt like he had been shot straight in the spark as his thoughts and feelings spiralled out of control.  
  
‘Jazz… is dead? No, no, no, NO, NO! He can’t be dead...he can’t- NO’  
  
Before he or anyone else could snap out of their frozen states or fully comprehend what was happening, Prowl had left the medbay and was gone…  
  
Back in the medbay that had gone deathly silent as they tried to wrap their processors around the fact that the music loving saboteur was gone a quiet, barely perceptible ‘beep’ interrupted the flat tone and broke the grieving atmosphere that hd settled in the medbay, sounding as loud as a bomb in the quiet room as it sounded again and again as they all figuratively held their breaths as hope started to slowly replace the shocked disbelief and despair. Hope that was amplified as Ratchet mutter to himself proving that they weren't imaging things.  
  
“Thank Primus, don’t you are do that again Jazz, you slag heap.”  
  
As relief stole through the medbay Optimus noticed something or rather somebot was missing and as he looks around the medbay for any sign of the tactician his optics widen slightly as he realises that his SIC was missing as something akin to horror crept into his spark as he comes to the conclusion that Prowl probably left when Jazzs spark guttered and that he more than likely doesn’t know of the Primus given miracle that had just taken place and immediately sought to correct this misconception as his second deserved to know that his mate was alive as his voice filled the medbay.  
  
“I understand that you are all worn out but I think it urgent that someone find Prowl amd inform him that Jazz has not joined the well just yet. Can anyone not injured volunteer to help track him down?”  
  
As Optimus spoke everyone realised that Prowl had vanished during the panic and the mostly unscathed twins, Bluestreak and Hound all volunteered and set out to find their wayward superior but as the joors stretched on and the search got bigger and more hectic, ending up with ‘bots searching all over Iacon in case Prowl had left HQ, with no one having yet seen the tactician worry and concern began to envelope most of the Autobots as the search had still not come up with any results by the next orn.  
  
Prowl had disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love to torture my 2 favourite mechs apparently and did any of you think I was going to let Jazz die there? xD
> 
> Please kudos and comment if you enjoyed this chapter and want more of this story...eventually.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't know if this chapter came out as well as I believe and hope it did or if I rushed parts and I would love ta hear your opinions on it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter and please kudos and comment if you do I love every one :)

Oblivious to his mates miraculous revival Prowl had took off from the medbay and almost ran out of the base keeping to the rarely used areas and exiting through a rarely used back exit, not wanting to run into anyone, all the while repeating the same mantra over and over in his processor.

‘He can’t be dead. He can’t be dead. He can’t be dead.’

As soon as he had reached the crowded streets of Iacon, as it was was early evening and mechs were out doing errands, working or trying to enjoy time with their families after the fighting had ended, he transformed jerkily and sped down the streets as quickly as he could.

Mechs and femmes he passed were shouting at him as he drove as though he were overcharged, swerving in the street, speeding, nearly running into pedestrian who were opting to walk as opposed to driving, scraping along the side of other people driving and nearly colliding head first into other vehicles in the road.

But he didn’t care nor did he really notice any of this as his processors were replaying what he had seen in the medbay, his mate torn to shreds, without reprieve, over and over refusing to forget whilst also denying the truth with every micron of his being.

Before he knew it he had found himself in the outer fringes of Iacon, where the mechs begging and homeless lined the sidewalks, barely surviving. It was completely different to the inner parts of Iacon, where the main Autobot base resided, that the buildings even whilst scorched and damaged from countless battles waged nearby seemed to gleam and stand proud no matter the tragedies that occurred in the streets around them.

These sections of Iacon were filthy and decrepit, some buildings barely standing with the near constant assaults on the city, courtesy of the Decepticons. Optimus hates that such a place exists where mecha starve and struggle, he would prefer that it didn’t, that mechs and femmes didn’t have to suffer needlessly, that he could help these people and their families lead better lives but he knew that the war takes priority, as much as he hates to admit it.

Prowl didn’t stop to try and find a place to rest thought, the thought didn’t even cross his mind, instead he continued to drive onward, past the outer edges of Iacons territory and into the lands beyond. The lands that were pockmarked with craters and melted slag that could have once been buildings or frames, it was hard to tell. These lands were permanently scarred by long past battles, even if the war ended and the world was rebuilt the scars would remain, a constant reminder.

He had to get away everything reminded him of Jazz. The cafe where we would go when Jazz managed to convince me to take a break from being in the base, oh how he regretted not spending more time with his black and white lover, all that time wasted…

The small shop which sold crystals and crystal ornaments of all kinds that Jazz had immediately took me to on a date as soon as he found out I liked crystals, it feels so long ago now, like a distant echo.

The music shop where I had gotten Jazz a gift early into our relationship knowing how much he liked music of all kinds.

It all reminded him of his Jazz and Jazz was… he was… 

Prowl swerved sharply on the desolate road his processor and spark assaulting him with images of Jazz's broken frame and the grief filling him as he continued to deny what he had seen refusing to believe… refusing to accept… 

‘He’s not dead, no this is all just a bad recharge flux, he’s not dead… Jazz can’t be dead, he’s too full of life.’

His processor screamed in denial even as his spark continued to writhe in pain at reality, threatening to tear him apart at the seams.

He drove until Iacon was barely a speck in the distance, his systems threatening to shut down and overheat at the amount of strain he has put on them and still he didn’t stop not until the sky opened up above him and acid rain poured out, burning his plating as it hit him and finally he stopped driving. Transforming and stumbling as grief continued to batter at his spark before he ran into what could have been a small rest stop at one point, for weary mechs and femmes who were travelling, but now it was nothing more than a half blown up slag heap.

It was enough to keep him out of the punishing rain though.

He looked round a bit before spotting an upturned but mostly intact chair near what could have been a small bar at one point in time. He walked over to it, dim pain-filled optics barely sparing a glance to the few poor corpses that were littering the room and once standing it up he collapsed into it heavily finally noticing how low on energy he was and how much his frame was aching from the stress he had put on it over the past many joors.

He couldn’t recharge though, no matter of much he needed to, no. His mind was too busy cruelly replaying the image of his lover, his beautiful lover, dead on a medical berth in a large pool of his own energon, taunting him with what he had lost and he dropped his helm into his servos, that were propped on his knees, muttering to him.

“Stop it… please stop… I don’t want to see… I don’t want to remember… stop… please.”

Another joor later and he was slumped in the chair, optics offlined, having fallen into an exhaustion induced recharge.

His processor didn’t off him any reprieve though as his recharge was plagued with Jazzs dead frame and his own pained thoughts.

He woke several joors later to hear the rain still falling outside and wondered what had woken him, thankfully, from his fitful recharge.

A klik later he figured out what had woken him as his tanks audibly rumbled unhappily, nearly empty and he once again found himself muttering to himself out loud, as though trying to futilely fill the silence that seemed so oppressing without his lover to fill it with his voice, his music or even his presence.

“Energon, I need energon.”

But as he was about to stand to try and find some as in his hurry to get away he hadn’t deigned to stpo and grab any, he paused as something occurred to him.

“Maybe I should just let myself starve… Jazz is… was my only real reason to live on.”

However, before he could contemplate such a thing any further he felt like something had brushed against one of his audios and froze in place before moving his helm around to look for the source of the sensation but there was nothing, he was completely alone.

After another tense breen of looking around he slumped back into the chair, having found nothing still, and shuttered his optics passing it off as just his imagination and content to just let the last of his energon deplete and more than prepared to join his mate in the Allspark.

But less than a breem later he snapped his optics back on as he once again had felt something brush against his audio but this time it was accompanied with a whisper of a voice too.

A very familiar voice.

“Don’t ya dare sit there and let yaself die Prowler.”

He shot up straight in the chair, its struts creaking it protest at the sudden movement, looking around frantically, desperately for the familiar black and white frame of his mate but there was no sign of him, or anyone else, at all.

“Jazz… no… impossible… “

“Go drink some energon Prowler, I’ll neva forgive ya if ya let yaself die like this.”

Prowls spark broken even more at those words as they registered in his processor. Jazz was already dead there’s no way this voice is him… but those words are true. Jazz would never forgive him if he just gave up and let himself die and even if this is just his mind playing tricks on him he didn’t want to disappoint his lover even more than he already had by letting him die, by not finding some way to save him, to prevent what happened.

“But… there’s no energon here.”

He looked around what remained of the broken husk of a building from his seat on the chair and he couldn’t see even a hint of energon anywhere.

“Yes there is Prowler.”

Prowl listened to the voice almost religiously, not caring that he was probably hearing things, as he found his optics drawn almost against his will to one of the dead mechs scattered around nearby.

“But it’s wrong, it’s against any kind of morals to do such a thing… “

He couldn’t help but hesitate and argue even though he knew it was pointless to do so.

“Drink the energon Prowler, if ya don’t ya gonna starve ta death.”

‘But if I just let myself die Jazz would be disappointed in me wouldn’t he? For just giving up even though I have a chance to live.’

He thought of his lover, even dead, being disappointed in him weighed heavily on his broken spark and fractured mind and so before he knew it he found himself on the ground, next to the dead frame, tearing open the main energon line at the mechs throat and leaning down sucking out any remaining energon in the frame and filling his empty tank.

The energon was sort of stale, from being left alone for so long in such an abandoned place most likely, but it was strangely tasty… it was sweet like some of the best highgrade, refined and processed by the mechs systems when he was still alive, but without the overcharged buzz you would normally get from such a thing and after drinking every last drop he could he pulled away actually licking his lips at the lingering taste, his systems purring in contentment.

He knew it was wrong to defiled a dead mech in such a way, he knew that if anyone back at the Autobot base found out what he had done, more importantly, that he had enjoyed it, that they would be disgusted by him but as Jazzs voice filtered through his processor telling him that he was glad he did it, that he gave in and lived both at the same time… 

He couldn’t bring himself to care or regret it, he even found himself, frowning at his tank still not being full, rising to his pedes and walking to the next nearest frame for more of the delicious energon even though he didn’t need any more.

He knew he should be horrified, that he should stop already but aside from a flash of guilt and disgust with himself that quickly passed, he didn’t.

So he continued till his tank was full, his systems purring in pleasure, before sitting back down on that chair and falling into a more peaceful recharge than before with Jazzs voice echoing in his processor and spark.

All the while the rain continued to pout outside, as though weeping for the lone black and white mech slumbering within.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again please kudos and comment if you enjoyed this chapter and let me know what ya think :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So um 1-2 days ago I posted chapter 9 of Taken and that was my longest chapter so far well.... here we are not 2 days alter and that record has been throughly smashed with this story clocking it at around 4k words hah xD
> 
> Also I love the many red squiggly lines I get whenever I write anything with Jazz speaking xD
> 
> This was written and now typed up within 2 days of my chapter for that other story and well so yea, anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks to everyone who has commented, kudos or even jsut read my story so far :) I love every single one thanks you.
> 
> Also am aware the POV in this chapter may seem...confusing to some but it makes sense and seemed right ho I wrote it so -shrugs-.
> 
> And so without further ado... enjoy :)

When Jazz starts to drag himself out of stasis all he’s able to really process is pain and alot of it and he lets out a pained filled groan as he becomes more aware of his frame and immediately after some mech seems to appear at his side asking him question after question, though what those questions were he couldn’t quite figure out yet so he opts to ignore the mech as he just lays there trying to bring online more of his systems and clear the fog from his processors as he tries to figure out where exactly he is right now.

He hears another voice join the first shortly after nd feels a small pinch in one of the energon lines in his arm and soon the pain fades just enough for him to sigh in slight relief and force online his optics and visor.

His visor and optics flicker a few times before managing to fully online and focus on the rather familiar ceiling of the medbay as it comes into view answering the question of where he is. He glances to his right where the voices were originating from and saw a rookie medic, who he believes is a mech called flare who recently transferred to Iacon base, and Ratchet who was glaring at him though he looked relieved.

“... Ratch?”

His voice sounded rough, hoarse and staticy which is what usually comes about from disuse or damage.

“Yes Jazz it’s me, how do you feel right now and what do you remember?”

Jazz shot Ratchet a dry look as he answered.

“Ah feel like slag warmed over an’ like Megatron used me as a punchin’ bag as fer what ah remember… “

A look of concentration crossed his faceplates as he thought back to the events that most likely led to him ending up in the medbay.

“Ah remember bein’ with Prowler when the alarms went off an’ then headin’ out ta battle but then… nothin’ except wakin’ up ta ya ugly mug.”

That comment earned him a glare from Ratchet which he merely grinned back as much as he could in response as the short tempered medic jotted down something on a datapad that he held.

“So… what did happen Ratch?”

Ratchet sighed as his shoulders slumped from how tired he was with everything going on before explaining all that’s happened, well almost everything.

“You died or rather you should have if not for your Primus damned luck.”

“Wha’?” He stared at the old medic in confusion and mild alarm not quite sure what to make of that declaration.

“That battle was 7 orns ago. You were severely damaged towards the end of the battle, our spark even guttered for a total of 5.6 breems which is far past the point any normal mech could be revived.”

He continued to stare at the worn out looking medic as he tried to get his still somewhat foggy processor to process the fact that he had been out for that long and that for all intents and purposes he really should have died and that it was only thanks to some kind of Primus blessed miracle that his spark still pulsed in his chassis.

“How did ah get that badly damaged?”

“When the battle was drawing to a close you got separated from every other bot and were instantly surrounded by a dozen or so Decepticons who, quite literally, tore you apart. We believe that it was you who was their goal for that battle.”

His gaze turned somewhat pensive as he went over all of this new information anf after roughly half a breen he nodded before realising as he looked around the medbay that a previously mentioned mech who was always there whenever he got injured, wasn’t there.

“Where’s Prowler? He usually always comes ta see me when am wakin’ up after gettin’ injured.”

The rookie medic actually seemed to flinch at the question whilst Ratchers optics flashed bright for a moment and his visored gaze sharpened as he caught the reaction, filing them away for later scrutiny on there cause.

“Prowl is away on a very important mission at another base.”

Jazz stared at the medic not believing him for even a  klik but before he could voice any of his suspicions or try and get the truth Ratchet spoke again, as if to stop him from doing exactly that.

“As for you, you’re going to recharge and not move from that med berth until I say you are well enough to and if I catch you so much as thinking about doing that I will weld your aft to that berth until you are.”

Ratchet glared at him before pulling out a syringe from subspace and quickly injecting him with it. The syringe appeared to be some kind of sedative as he immediately felt his frame relaxing and slowing against his will trying to fall back into recharge, a task which was only aided by his still healing frame  and so before he knew it he fell into recharge once again.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ratchet watched as the saboteur fell into a forced recharge and glanced at the med bay door was it swooshed open admitting the leader of the Autobots who came to stand next to the medic joining him in his gazing at the small black and white mech in recharge.

“We can’t hide it from Jazz forever Optimus, pit the slaggers  _ job _ is to find out about secrets and one way or another this particular one  _ will _ be found out.”

Optimus sighs softly through his cents s he places a comforting srvo on his friends shoulder.

“I know old friend but I’m hoping we can find Prowl before Jazz becomes aware of the situation and save him from that grief.”

Ratchet turned to fully face Optimus with his arms crosses in front of him.

“Any luck so far?”

“I’m afraid not much. We were delayed in out search by the acid storm that passed through and it burned away most of any kind of trail that we could have used. We did find that there’s an old rest stop several joors outside the boundaries of Iacon that Hound and Mirage are planning to check out later in case he heading in that direction and took refuge from the storm there.”

Ratchet nodded curtly as he went about checking over Jazzs vitals and the repairs he had made in case there was something wrong that he missed and Optimus looked back at the recharging mech one last time as he prayed to Primus that they find Prowl before his mate finds out he’s missing before vacating the medbay.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few orns passed since then with Jazz still stuck in the medbay and Ratchet said that he was healing rather quickly considering the amount of damage he had sustained and he was also no longer forced into recharge for any longer that the average person which he was very thankful for.

Jazz had decided during that time to study everyone carefully, remembering what had happened before he was sedated, for any clues as to what was being kept from him and noticed that there seemed to be a… depressed air around everybot who visited him and also that everyone was nervous around him, not lingering for too long and avoiding any conversation that referred to the most recent battle that was the cause for his current stay in the medbay.

This all made his suspicions grow and solidify in his made that there was something no one wanted him to find out but the most suspicious thing he had observed so far was that the moment he brought up Prowl everyone suddenly found that they had ‘forgotten’ something they needed to do or said they had just gotten a comm and needed to go and discuss something with someone. Basically, the moment his lover was mentioned ‘bots fled the medbay and his general vicinity as quickly as possible.

It was frustrating him to no end as he couldn’t figure out for the life of him why everybot was so skittish about Prowl.

He had found himself even cursing his own frame for taking so long to heal and preventing him from going and finding out for himself what was going on. The medic and bots seem to be growing more panicked and concerned the more he healed and the faster he recovered as though the timer on a bomb was steadily counting down and getting closer and closer to hitting 0 and exploding.

And didn’t that just make sense, wasn’t a mech healing fast and well supposed to be a  _ good  _ thing?

With an internal sigh he relaxed on the medberth and fell into recharge hoping a good recharge would help him speed up his recovery further and get him closer to being healthy enough to go and find out what’s going on for himself.

Another 2 orns passed and jazz was fairly confident that he was healed enough to go out that night and he tried to hide this fact as much as possible, as difficult a task as that was with Ratchet, honestly unsure if they would resort to sedatives or magnetising him to the berth in order to prevent him from doing exactly that.

Determined to finally get some answers he laid down and shut off his visor and optics, slowing his systems to mimic recharge and waited patiently until the last medic left to get their own recharge.

He waited a further 2 breems after that just in case someone has forgotten something and came to retrieve it but hearing nothing even with his sensitive audios dialed to max he turned his visor and optics back on, dimly at first, as he checked for anyone just to be sure there truly was no one. Vorn in special ops makes a mech learn that just because you can’t hear someone it doesn’t mean there isn’t someone there.

Satisfied that he truly was no one and that he was alone he sat up and hopped silently off his berth wincing slightly as he felt how much his frame ached and protested the movement. Pushing the mild pain away he headed out of the medbay avoiding the cameras as they swivelled back and forth looking for intruders or anything amiss.

As he was sneaking around he had needed to avoid a few Autobots who were walking around having the misfortune known as night shift but he had still not found any answers to his questions.

At least until he saw Ratchet, Ironhide, Optimus and strangely enough Hound and Mirage heading to the rec room together in the dead of night.

Curiosity piqued he found a vent in the wall that he opened and shimmied himself into replacing the covering once he was in and slowly started to make his way in the direction of the rec room, once there he settled himself in a vent near the ceiling that gave him a good view of the interior of the room but that still kept him out of sight ready to listen in on the conversation.

What he heard shocked him, upset him and made him feel completely livid all at once.

The 5 mechs were seated at a table in the otherwise empty room and an air of seriousness seemed to encompass them as Optimus was the first to speak.

“Did you find anything of note at that rest stop you two went and investigated?”

Mirage and Hound glanced at each other hesitantly before responding.

“Yes sir we did but… “

“What is it? Speak your mind.”

“It’s not good.”

Ironhide slammed a fist on the table shaking it sightly and opened his mouth more than likely to start shouting and cursing about how ‘of course it’s not slagging good’ but Optimus pleased a servo on his arm getting his attention and shook his helm to stop him gesturing for the noblemech and tracker to continue.

“His dead frame wasn’t there but that’s about the only good news we can give you. There was several other frames there that appeared to have been dead for a long time… “

Hound decided to pick up where Mirage had trailed off.

“They had been dead for vorns most likely but all of their energon had been drained from their frames… recently.”

There was a moment of tense silent as that sank it before Ratchet spoke up for the first time since sitting down, his tone grave as he asked the question no one really wanted to ask.

“Exactly how recently are we talking about?”

Hound shutters his optics and sighed his tone equally as grave as the medics.

“A little under 2 decarns ago.”

The air surrounding the small group seemed to grow even more tense and grim at those words and all were once again silent for several moments before Ironhide spoke, almost muttering to himself.

“Around when he disappeared. SLAG.”

Jazz listened to the whole conversation putting pieces together one by one.

So someone had disappeared after the last battle that had put him in the medbay and that someone seems to have drank the energon from dead frames an act that in itself was considered disgraceful and wrong even by a few Decepticons.

Yet they didn’t seem to be reacting negatively to that horrifying fact but more that this mech hadn’t yet been found. They seemed concerned for the mech.

Jazz still had a feeling he was missing a very important and very crucial piece of information as none of what he’s heard so far would result in the behaviour everyone had around him so he continued to eavesdrop on the conversation.

Ratchet had asked another question as he had been consumed in his own ponderings on the situation and he internally cursed himself at missing what that question was before listening intently to the answer which was given by the former noblemech.

“More than needed. Even if he had been running on an empty tank there was more than enough energon in only one or 2 of those frames to get him through the storm. But every single one had been drained almost at once.”

The old medic cursed under his breath glaring at the table his servos looking like they were itching to grab a wrench and throw it at someone.

Optimus’ optics were filled with sorrow as he asked his next question.

“Were there any clues as to where he may have gone after the storm had passed?”

Both Mirage and Hound shook their helms  in the negative both mechs looking tired and worn out and in need of a refueling and good undisturbed recharge.

“No, there was nothing.”

“I’m sad to hear that but we can not give up in our search to find him. Rachet how much longer before Jazz is fully recovered?”

Jazz’s visor flashes slightly as the topic of the conversation switches to him.

Said medic scowled at the table before responding.

“He’s almost recovered enough to be put on light duty and released from my medbay. Optimus were running out of time it’s only a matter of orns, at the most, before he finds out that Prowls gone missing and learns that we’ve been keeping it from him, his reaction will not be pleasant.” 

“I know old friend. I know.”

Jazz, however, didn’t hear what was said after that revelation as his processor came to a grinding halt as the final piece of the puzzle is slotted into place. It all made sense now, ‘bots behaviour around him, why they avoided conversation about that battle, why the topic of Prowl was taboo, everything made sense, but all he could really feel at first was pure shock.

_ Prowl disappeared? _

Which shifted to confusion.

_ Why? _

Which morphed into sadness and worry.

_ His lover was missing? Is he okay? _

And it continued on and on till rage and anger were introduced into the mix and before he could stop himself his engive rumbled angrily and he growled out loud, his visor glowing a dark, angry, _smoldering_ , blue.

All conversation stopped abruptly as the 5 mechs heard the growl and rumbling and they pulled out their weapons from subspace standing and preparing for a potential attack.

What they were not expecting however was for Jazz to drop down in a little ways in front of them glaring lividly at them, a scowl on his usually smiling face.

The 5 mechs glanced at one another as they realised that Jazz had probably just overheard their entire conversation but even though Jazz was an Autibot and their friend they were hesitant to lower their weapons as the infamous saboteur looked completely, and understandably, slagged off and they knew an angry Jazz was a very dangerous Jazz.

Optimus was the first to brave the black and white mechs wrath.

“Jazz, I know this must be upsetting but you need to calm down and-”

Optimus didn’t get any further as Jazz interrupted him.

“Calm down?! Ya want me ta calm down when my lover is missin’ an’ ya all decided ta keep it from me?!”

“You were severely injured and we didn’t want to tell you anything that would ‘cause you undue stress and aggravate your injuries.”

“Ah don’t give a slag ‘bout my injuries! Not when Prowl is  _ missin’ _ an’ no one knows where he is!”

“We knew you would say that and we didn’t want you running off half-coked on some gltiched search that would only get you more slagged than you already were.”

It was Ratchet that time and the medic tensed slightly when Jazz turned his smoldering visored gaze on him but he glared right back and didn’t back down.

“Listen Jazz we will explain everything but first we need you to calm down before you hurt yourself or someone else.”

“Oh  _ now _ ya wanna talk? After keepin’ this from me fer so long?”

“We were hoping that we would find Prowl before you were released from the medbay in order to save you from any grief if possible.”

“Well congrats Optimus, ya failed splendidly.”

Optimus re-subspaced his weapon and dared a step towards Jazz and when the saboteur didn't immediately lash out at him he continued his slow advance until he was close enough to place his servos on the smaller mechs shoulders.

As soon as he did though he had to stop the mech from falling to the metal floor as he seemed to deflate at his touch, all of his anger leaving him in a rush as he almost dropped to his knees his healing frame protesting the stress it was just put through.

Once the others saw that the immediate danger and disaster had been averted they to put their weapons away and went over to him helping to seat the black and white mech in a chair before retaking their won seats.

Ratchet quickly took this opportunity to scan and check over the now silent and lax mechs frame in case he had indeed aggravated any of his injuries during his nightly escapade, also re-taking his seat when he was certain he hadn’t.

With everyone now once again seated at the table, now with the addition of the TIC, an awkward silence settled over the small group with everyone watching Jaz warily waiting for him to speak.

After several breems of utter silence he did just that.

“So what did happen?”

His voice was so uncharacteristically quiet that they almost didn’t hear him but Ratchet was the one to answer in his typically blunt fashion.

“You died and Prowl saw it, like everyone else who was there, only difference was he didn’t see you come back.”

Jazzs visor brightened fractionally at that as he looked at the medic.

“How did he not see me come back?”

“I believe Optimus is more equipped to answer that question.”

Jazzs gaze shifted to the prime as he waited expectantly.

“I saw Prowl with us in the med bay when we all saw and heard your spark gutter but when I looked back at where he had been stood, after you had been revived, he was gone.”

“We think he took off before you came back and as such… “

The noblemech trailed off from where he had picked up the conversation but Jazz was more than capable of finishing the sentence for him.

“He think am dead.”

Optimus nodded with a grim frown.

“Indeed.”

“How come ya ain’t managed ta find him yet, after all this time?”

“We deduced that he had used a back exit that no one uses in order to get off the base without anyone noticing.”

“And?” Jazz prompted.

“We looked all ova Iacon, the slaggers not here.”

It was Ironhide who spoke up that time a glare on his face.

“But ya at least know which direction he went in right?”

The silence was answer enough and he clenched his firsts tightly, anger rising to the front of the usually easy tempered mech once again.

“ _ Right? _ ”

Optimus, seeing his TIC getting riled up again, tried to appease the mech with what little information they did have so far.

“We may not know exactly where he’s gone but we do believe he stayed in an old rest stop to the east of here during the acid storm.”

Jazzs visor flickers as he recalled what he had overheard regarding that when he was eavesdropping.

“Ya said ya fund dead frames with all their energon sucked outta ‘em. Ya lot believe that it was Prowl who did that don’t ya?”

They all nonned grimly but it was Hound who answered, speaking softly as to not set his superior off.

“There was faint traces of Prowls scent on each and every one of those frames.”

“Prowler would neva do somethin’ like that unless it was absolutely necessary, it’s wrong ta desecrate dead mechs like that!”

“I know and as far as we can tell it was necessary… at least the first one was.”

Jazz stared at the gathered mechs one by one shock once again stealing it’s way through his spark.

“But Prowl would neva do that kinda thing fer the pit of it… “

“If he was in his right mind… no he wouldn’t.”

“Ya think he’s losin’ it ‘cause he thinks am dead?”

All the mechs looked at Jazz sadly at how broken the saboteur sounded no doubt starting to feel guilt and blame himself for this and of course they were quick to try and assure Jazz that it wasn’t his fault.

“Jazz this is a very unfortunate situation and none of us could possibly imagine how you must be feeling right now but this is not your fault.”

“Not my fault? How is it no my fault if ah had just’ seen those ‘cons before they surrounded e and did that ta me Prowler wouldn’t be thinkin’ am dead.”

“No one saw it coming Jazz, you can’t blame yourself for this.”

Optimus placed a, hopefully, reassuring and comforting servo on the smaller mechs shoulder squeezing it gently.

“Ye it’s all those slagging ‘cons fault.”

Was the Autobots weapons specialists helpful comment.

“Now it’s time I get your aft back to my medbay so you can refuel and recharge and don’t you even think about doing anything like this again.”

Was Ratchets typical grouchy comment, though it was softer than usual, as he stood watching the saboteur in case he tried anything but, surprisingly, he to stood up without complaint completely silent. Once Ratchet said goodbye to the other 4 mechs he and Jazz headed to the medbay the saboteur not speaking a word the whole time.

“Optimus sir.”

Said mech glanced down at Mirage as he called his name.

“Keep an eye on Jazz sir, there’s no way my commander is going to sit idly by the whole time.”

Optimus nods in agreement as he stares at the door his medic and TIC had just left through.

“I know Mirage. I just pray that whatever does happen isn’t too bad.”

With that last comment that they all concurred with the remaining 4 mechs left the rec room and went their separate ways to get some recharge of their won before the next orn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plase kudos and comment if you have enjoyed my story :) As I mention in every chapter I love each adn every single one xD


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so damn tired am at 17 hours awake -yawns- anyway this chapter once agina beat my record number of words and almost hit 5k I dunno how or why but yea.
> 
> I think some bits of this chapter are a little rocky but well I did what I could I still don't got much experience.
> 
> Thanks to all that have kudos, commented, bookmarked and even just read my story I love ya all.
> 
> So without further ado enjoy :)

Prowl awoke to the acid rain still pouring down outside of the mostly destroyed building and after checking his chronometre to see exactly how long he had recharged he determined that it had been several joor and that the rain would probably stop soon.

Between now and then he wasn’t sure what he would do. He didn’t want to get stuck thinking about what he had seen and heard back at the base and get stuck in a loop once again.

So after going over his rather limited options he decided he may as well explore what he could more thoroughly since he didn’t get much of a chance to do so being preoccupied with… things.

Prowl stood up from the chair he had claimed and stretched his arms above his helm and hearing the satisfying sound of his spinal struts snapping back into place, all other things aside recharging on an old chair was not the wisest idea and certainly not the most comfortable either.

Once Prowl was sure that everything was back in its proper alignment he decided to first check around for some kind of back room, the owners of this place had to store energon and supplies somewhere afterall.

His search turned up a rusted shut and scorched door almost completely hidden in a shadowed corner of the room and after a brief hesitation, about whether or not forcing the door open would bring what remained off the building down on his helm, he reached forward grasping at a slightly twisted edge and with a few good tugs the door swung open with a loud creak spraying flakes of rust at him and making him cough. 

After the flakes of rust had settled he took a cautious step into the room beyond and looked around the small space (or what remained of it). There was several overturned and crushed boxes literally one half of the room, and the few remaining shelves, anything they once held destroyed or scavenged long ago.

The other half of the space was taken up by what had once been part of the roof, caved in and crumbling, that was mostly likely damaged during whatever battle that had laid waste to this establishment and the surround area.

After looking around the small storage room a little while longer, not that there was much to see, he left opting to keep the door open rather than risk breaking it off completely if he tried to shut it again.

Next he moved to look behind the small bar, near where he had place the chair, as he had only looked briefly for energon earlier and not much else.

His search turned up several crushed cubes, probably broken by someone trying to escape in a hurry and stepping on them, a discarded blaster that after a quick once over he determined was irreparable and an energy dagger under some debris, that was a bit battered and worn but still in working order, that he decided to subspace since he only had his rifle on him that he had always carried around for emergencies.

There wasn’t anywhere else left to check or explore seeing as most of the structure was destroyed so he busied himself with cleaning the energy dagger he found and getting more accurate knowledge on the state it was in.

By the time Prowl had finished with the dagger he found that the acid rain had finally appeared to have stopped pouring outside and so, not wanting to stick around and be found by the Autobots who were most likely searching for him, he filled up a couple mostly intact cubes with the remaining energon from the dead frames all the while reciting in his head that it was necessary and for survival, nothing more.

Perhaps if he told himself that enough times it would become the truth instead of the alternative.

Once he subspaced the cubes Prowl left the small rest stop behind and transformed on the pockmarked road taking off with the goal to get even further from iacon and the memories of that place.

He had been back on the road for only a joor or so when he heard his lovers voice fill he near silence making hi swerve sporadically for a few kliks in surprise.

“Woah watch it Prowler, it wouldn’t do ta crash.”

Prowl tried his best to ignore the voice putting his sensors on there highest level and sending out scans just in case there was any chance someone was toying with him.

Unsurprisingly,his senors and scans came up empty, there was no one and nothing on these roads except him and he wasn’t sure whether to be glad for that or not.

“Hey Prowlerrrr? Are ya ignorin’ me?”

There was a hint of a pout in the words but Prowl resolutely tried his best to ignore the voice that sounded so much like his mates. A voice that should not, could not, be there.

“Are ya mad at me fer dyin’? Is that it? Not like ah could help it ya know.”

Prowl stubbornly kept ignoring the persistent voice. The one that had a musical lilt to it that always seemed to be uniquely Jazz.

“Maybe ya could have though. Ah never much fancied dyin’.”

Prowl swerved sharply in the road once again as those words struck a chord in his spark.

That was one of the thought processes Prowl has desperately been trying to stop since  his lover died. What if he had done something differently? What if he had noticed what the ‘cons were planning sooner? Could he have saved Jazz from his fate?

Prowl knew that logically speaking there is no way to figure out 100% of the enemies movements and plans during a battle but… if he had only this one time then Jazz wouldn’t be… he wouldn’t’ be dead.

He couldn’t help but think it was his fault, there had to have been  _ something _ he could have done.

“Ya could have probably done somethin’ but what?”

What? He didn’t know what but there had to have been something,  _ anything _ , Prowl was often said to have some of the most advanced processors on Cybertron so there had to have been  _ something _ .

“You’re not real.”

If only… if only the ‘cons didn’t exist Jazz would still be alive, still be in his arms.

“Maybe ah am, maybe am not or maybe am as real as ya make me out ta be.”

Maybe he could have done something to end this war sooner, before Jazz lost his life, but what could he have done? What?

“I’m sorry Jazz, I’m so sorry.”

“Aw it’s all good Prowler am still with ya, we’re still together.”

‘Yes’ Prowl thought ‘even if he is an hallucination, a figment of his imagination, Jazz is still with me isn’t he? Is it really that bad?’

The rest of the drive was mostly passed in silence, only the sounds of his tired on the road and the occasional word or two from that voice filled the air.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several joors later and Tygar Pax loomed in the distance getting close with every passing breem. It was a mostly Autobot controlled territory, but seemed to always be shrouded in a dark shadow that failed to be driven away by the neon lights often found in the city.

Prowl thought it’d be a good place to stay for a few orns as long as he stuck to the poorer and more degraded parts of the city, well away from the centre where the largest base in the city was located.

Once he reached the city he transformerd on the outskirts and, making sure any patrolling Autobots didn’t see him, slipped into the city.

The area he was heading to was still a short trek through the city but only perhaps a joor on foot, half that time in alt mode.

As he drive through the city h kept to the back streets where he was less likely to get spotted by an Autobot and soon he was in an area where beggars lined the streets hoping for a passing mech or femme to spare them some energon or a few credits.

The buildings that covered the area were in a severe state of disrepair and the few buildings that weren’t, were more often than not home to shady establishments.

There was a time before the war when he was an enforcer that it would have been his job to investigate such places and if anything illegal was taking place, shut them down. Now he’s planning to use such places, illegal or not, to hide from his friends and enemies both. Funny how things work out.

Prowl pulled up in front of one of these places, one of the most shady ones he could find, hoping they wouldn’t question what an Autobot was doing here and booking a room for a night or 2. Relying on the fact that before… recent events he would have never come here to make it an unlikely place the Autobots would look.

As Prowl entered the building the first thing he noticed was a layer of rust and grime coating the place, the next thing he noticed was a door with a crooked and splintered sign above it that read ‘Bar’ in messy scrawl.

After finishing his cursory look around he headed to the reception desk where a scrawny blue and orange mech stood watching him suspiciously and warily. No doubt wondering what he was doing or going to do.

“I would like to book a for 1 or 2 orns please.”

There was a flash of brief surprise mixed with trepidation on the mechs face before he opted to respond.

“Look Autobot I don’t want no trouble or anything to do with that war brung here.”

“There will be no trouble in connection with the war or otherwise I assure you, unless you yourself spread word that I’m here or someone else starts something.”

The scrawny mech continued to eye him suspiciously before he seemed to come to a decision.

“Right, I won’t do such a thing. Now a room for 2 orns right? That’s 150 credits.”

Prowl sighed internally at the price but supposed with a continually escalating war going on that it’s also not surprising or too bad all things considered so he said nothing.

He pulled out the required number of credits from subspace and handed them to the mech who in turn gave him a room key, kind of old fashioned but in such a place also not unexpected.

“Thanks sir, your room is on the third floor room number 108.”

Prowl nods his thanks as he takes the key and makes his way up the creaky stairs that he had spotted when he had first looked around.

When he reached the correct floor he walked down the hall and found room 108 and once he had opened the door and entered the small room he shut and locked it behind him.

The room was fairly simple as he had expected in such a run down place. There was a berth in one corner littered in scratches, that he didn’t want to dwell too much on, a window that was covered in dirt and grime and a door that led to a small washrack that was also in poor condition.

It was actually in better condition than he had been expecting.

Once Prowl was done looking around the room he moved to sit down on the small berth and decided to see what exactly he had in his subspace and began pulling everything out of it and spread them out on the berth in front of him.

Once everything was removed he took stock of what he had. His rifle and a few spare cartridges of ammo for it, some credits, the energy dagger that he had found at the rest stop, a small crystal statue Jazz had given him for a gift near when they had first started dating and a picture.

He picked up the picture staring at it with a mix of longer, love, sadness, anger and guilt. THe picture was of him and jazz on one of their rare, willing, days off. They had decided to visit the crystal gardens in Prowls home city for their 1 vorn anniversary and had planned it out deca-orns in advance, Jazz had even made sure all his paperwork was done so that he wouldn’t have a chance of getting called back over something and he hated paperwork with a passion. Once it was all planned out they had took their plans to Optimus and he had smiled at them and graciously allowed them as much time off as they wanted.

Jazz had been so ecstatic and excited over the whole thing and had practically bouncing on his pedes the whole time. Prowl chuckled slightly at the memories of that orn and jumped in surprise when the voice spoke up again, having been lost in the memories.

“That was a great an’ fun couple orns wasn’t it Prowler.”

After getting over his jump Prowl opened his mouth to tell it to go away but hesitated and something else came out of his mouth instead before he could stop it, his voice tinged with sadness and grief.

“Yes… yes it was.”

He let his gaze linger on the picture for a few kliks longer before putting it back in his subspace along with his rifle, ammo, credit and the crystal statuette just leaving the energy dagger out.

“What ya plannin’ ta do with that Prowler?”

Prowl picked it up watching as the light streaming through the window glinted off of the blade before speaking in a near mumble.

“I’m going to make it harder to find me.”

With that Prowl took the dagger to the red insignia on his chest and proceeded to carve jagged lines into it, making it as unrecognizable as possible, wincng slightly at the pain.

Once he finished with that he went to the washrack and turned the solvent on. It was cold which shocked him slightly as it first hit his frame before he grew used to it enough and washed the small trails of energon on his newly self-inflicted injuries as well as washing the slight amount of energon off of the dagger before resubspacing that and figured that he may as well get rid of some of the accumulated filth off of his frame.

When he was half-cleaned and dr Prowl left the dingy washracks and almost collapsed onto the berth as the strut deep exhaustion form his long journey finally seemed to hit him all at once and he was soon in a pleasantly dreamless recharge.

It was 9 joors later when Prowl woke up again, in the middle of the night cycle, rested after the longest recharge he has had since that battle that took Jazz from him.

Once he had woken up enough he groaned slightly and stretched out on the berth before dragging himself to his pedes his optics continuing to flicker slightly as he shook off the haze of recharge.

“Mornin’ Prowler.”

Unthinkingly, Prowl responded to the voice of his lover in a sleepy murmur.

“Morning Jazz.”

However, realisation hit soon after and he glared out at thin air.

“No stop.You’re not real.”

“We already had this talk Prowler am as real as ya make me out ta be.”

Prowl ignored the voice successfully this time and opted to pretend he wasn’t hearing things right now and headed out of his small room and going down the stairs before leaving the rusty hotel for some fresh air.

He stood outside for several breems both for some fresh air and because he wasn’t exactly sure what to do but after thinking it over he choose to walk around the area and see what’s about, even if it’s not much, and headed down the street to his left.

As he had expected there wasn’t much. Most buildings were damaged in some way and there were more beggars than liveable home spaces. There was a few shops open, mostly bars, including a shop that seemed to sell basic supplies such as solvent, rags, cheap paint and the like. There was als what looked to be some kind of gambling house if the sounds of mechs and femmes complaining of ‘cheaters’ and ‘bad luck’ emanating from it were any indication.

He made mental notes of every place that could be useful in some way as he passed but as he was walking a glimmer caught his  optic from a shop across the street from him and curious about what it was he approached the shop.

What he found was a shop that seemed to sell accessories and attachments which surprised him, he didn’t think any place around here would be able to acquire such items to sell them and Prowl quickly came to the conclusion that the shop was probably acquiring and selling such things illegally.

Seeing that the shop was still open even at this time of night, more than likely because of it’s illegal nature, he decided to enter the shop and look around.

It wasn’t a very big shop he found but it sold things like bands that can magnetically attach to your frame, cloaks, knives, additives for energon and other odds and ends but as he walked deeper into the shop he saw a few cheap visors, most for only show, except for one that was more expensive than the rest, or most things in the shop really.

It was alot like Jazzs in shape and style but rather than the cerulean blue of his mates that he was used to, this one appeared to be a sleek dark shade of silver and he couldn’t seem to look away from it.

Though he hadn’t realised he had been staring until a minibot mostly painted in shades of green approached and addressed him.

“Hello sir. I couldn’t help but see to notice our fascination with that visor, I acquired it fairly recently in a stroke of luck. Are you interested in buying it?”

Prowl was about to say no he wasn’t, to what appeared to be the owner, but instead he found himself saying yes.

“Yes please it… reminds me of someone I used to know.”

“I see, do you have the credits on your to afford it?”

Prowl nodded withdrawing most of his reaming credits from his subspace as proof.

“Excellent, do you have the programs necessary to install and integrate it with your systems? That is if you intent to wear it I don’t mean to presume.”

“Yes I do, thank you. Is it possible or me to purchase and take this with me right now?”

“Yes as long as I get the credits your free to leave with it whenever you wish.”

Prowl handed the correct amount of credits to the shop owner who proceeded to unlock the glass case the visor was held in and handed it to him with a thank you for the credits.

Prowl nods in acknowledgement of the thanks and takes the visor holding it gently in his servos as though he was afraid it would shatter at any moment.

After several moments Prowl subspaced the visor and exits the mall establishment and heads back in the direction of the hotel. Once he arrived back at the hotel he opted to enter the small bar in the reception area hoping they sold regular energon and not just highgrade.

Upon entering the bar he chooses to take a seat along the counter and after briefly speaking to the bartender he is relieved to hear that there was regular energon and he soon had a cube in his servo.

He lifted the cube to his mouth and took a measured sip and then almost immediately spat it back out at the tate but forced himself to swallow it.

Worried Prowl started a quick scan of his systems in case the cause was some kind of poison or something else that could cause him harm and when the scans came up clean he looked down at the cube he held in a mix of confusion and dread.

Prowl had had low quality energon like this before but it had never tasted so… disgusting and yet according to the scan it was perfectly normal low grade energon, nothing different about it.

He lifted the cube and forced himself to take another sip and found it just as disgusting as the first. Prowl stared into the cube wondering what could be causing this. Maybe he caught a virus somewhere? But the scan he had just done had come up completely clean. No virus.

Prowl continued to contemplate the cause of this when he felt a clumsy tap on his shoulder and the smell of highgrade invaded his sensors and he turned slightly in order to see who was behind him.

What he saw was a mech in a gaudy array of gold and blue colours covered in more grime than he thought possible along with scratched and stains that collectively caused his face to crinkle in disgust.

He moved the mechs hand off of his shoulder intent on turning back around and ignoring the clearly overcharged mech but said mech seemed to have other ideas as he moved in closer and spoke in a voice that made nails on a chalkboard sound beautiful.

“Hey der, what’s a cute little praxian like you doin’ in a bar all alone?”

The gaundy mechs question was accompanied by servos roughly touching Prowls doorwings.

“Let go of my doorwings immediately.”

His words were blatantly ignored as the mech continued with his ministrations causing Prowl to growl lowly and physically removed the servos off of his doorwings. The overcharged mech was persistent however as he invaded Prowls personal space as much as he could.

“Why don’t you come to ma room and I’ll show you a good time huh?”

“No, now leave me alone.”

Unsurprisingly. The mech did nothing of the sort and actually leaned closer in an attempt to kiss him.

And that was the last straw. Prowl had been described many times in his life to be an extremely patient mech who never lost his temper but he had been through and is still going through too much slag right now to be any kind of patient or cool-tempered.

So Prowl put his energon down hard enough for energon to slosh over the sides, stood up and turned around punching the mech in the faceplate and knocking the already unsteady mech straight on his aft, catching the attention of a couple other mechs on a nearby table.

Ignoring the now cursing mech on the floor holding a now bleeding nasal ridge he sat back down to try to figure out his new dilemma with the energon.

Peace and quiet were not to be his though as the other 2 mechs he had knocked accidentally , who also appeared to be the firsts friends, approached him and grabbed his shoulder forcing him to turn around.

“Now that wasn’t a very smart thing to do fella.”

Prowl scoffed slightly as he glared hotly at the mech who spoke “Neither was that mech molesting me after I clearly told him to stop. Now why don’t you overcharged mechs go sober up somewhere else and leave me alone. I’m not in a very good mood.”

Prowl spoke in a clearly dismissing tone and sucked slightly as one of these new mechs, the mostly orange one, took a swing at his hel clearly not liking the tone or what he had done to his friend.

Of course missing his target just fragged them off more and he was soon on his pedes avoiding punches from 2 overcharged mechs, that soon became 3 when the molester he had punched recovered. Everyone else in the small bar just seemed content to sit back and watch the spectacle unfolding before them.

Prowl had no trouble dodging the mechs, even outnumbered, afterall if he couldn’t even handle 3 overcharged mechs with no fighting skill or experience other than brawling on the streets there was no way he would have been able to survive the war as long as he had.

“C’mon Prowler knock them on their afts already!”

The other mechs he was fighting with showed no signs of hearing the voice which was expected he supposed, seeing as it wasn’t real but Prowl heeded the voice, quite done with this situation.

He ducked under another punch aimed at his helm and swept his leg out knocking te orange mechs pedes out from under him and sending him crashing into a chair and landing sprawled on his back groaning in pain.

Next he dealt with the other new mech by grabbing his arm when he tried to hit him and flipping him over his shoulder to land hard on a table, which had been empty thankfully, that ended up breaking with the added weight.

After that he faced the last one who was also the one he had punched in the faceplate with a raised optic ridge.

“Well? Are we done here?”

The gold and blue mech looked from Prowl to his friends groaning on the floor and, even as overcharged as he was, realised he had no chance and held up his servos in defeat. 

Prowl sighed rolling his shoulder slightly. “Good. Now please leave.”

Prowl watched with some amusement as the mech quickly scrambled to haul his friends to their pedes and practically ran out of the bar with his friends staggering out behind him.

With that over and done with Prowl had no urge to stay in the bar and nodded to the room at large since mechs inside were watching him and promptly left debating whether to go back to his room or to head back outside.

In the end he decided to head back to his rom and think over some things whilst relaxing in peace and quiet, or at least try to, but as he was passing by the reception desk the same blue and orange mech from earlier in the orn called out to him making him pause just before the stairs.

“Hey sir!”

“Yes? Can I help you?”

“I heard the commotion that went on in the bar. I thought I said I didn’t want any trouble from you?”

“And I said I wouldn’t cause any, which I didn’t. I told that mech several times to stop and leave me alone and yet he continued to persist.”

The small mech eyed him suspiciously before hesitantly nodding.

“Right of course. I suppose he deserved it then.”

“Indeed. Now is there something else or na I head back to my room?”

The mech was about to shake hsi helm that there wasn’t anything else when the marks on his chest, where his Autobot insignia had previously been, seemed to get his attention.

“What happened there?”

Prowl stared at the mech blankly long enough for him to become unnerved considering whether or not to answer the question and if so to what degree.

“Of course it’s none of my business I-”

Prowl cut him off there finally coming to the conclusion that there was no harm in telling him and gazed down at his own chest.

“I wanted to distance myself in order to stop myself from reliving things I don’t with to remember I suppose.”

The scraggy mech looked like he wanted to inquire further into it but upon seeing Prowls expression of grief and sadness he respectfully deigned not to and instead bit Prowl goodbye.

“I see. That’s understandable. Well I best be leaving you alone and getting back to my job, Goodbye sir.”

Once the mech as gone Prowl turned and continued on his way up the stairs soon arriving back at his room and laying down on the berth.

“Wow Prowler, ya showed those jerks who’s boss they shouldn’t of touched ya like that, they deserved ta get scraped.”

Prowl turned his optics off about to once again tell the voice to just  _ go away _ but instead he consciously chose not to as the voice, real or not, was so much like Jazz and he found he greatly missed and enjoyed his mates musical tones and so replied to the voice in a soft tone finding himself believing what the voice was saying, believing that those mechs truly did deserve what he had done to them.

“Yes… yes they did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please kudos, comment and bookmark this story if ya enjoying it I love them all too.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here's chapter 6 and I am deeply sorry for the long wait, with christmas and deadlines I was rather busy but it's done now... that counts for something right?
> 
> Anyway thanks to all that have kudos, commented, bookmarked or just read my story so far, I love each and every one of them :)
> 
> And without furthur adu, enjoy :)

Prowl wandered around the dark void he found himself in having no idea where he was or what he was doing here.

He occasionally called out into the silent abyss to see if anyone or anything would respond but he never got a response.

He wandered aimlessly till he heard a mildly distorted voice that sounded both far away and right next to him.

“Prowler… “

It took him a moment but he recognised that voice and he called out once again.

“Jazz?”

_ “Why Prowler… ?” _

Prowl saw a flash in the corner of his optic and he twisted around sharply just in time to see the flash of a familiar blue visor before it vanished.

“Jazz?!”

_ “How Prowler?... How could ya let this happen?” _

He saw that flash in the corner of his vision again and whipped around in an effort to catch even a glimpse, he got more than a glimpse as he saw in front of him the flowing form of his love standing and staring at him.

_ “Why did ya let me die Prowler?” _

Prowl opened his mouth to respond but before he could get a word out the ghostly form of his lover had turned away from him and was walking away. So Prowl ran, chasing after the retreating form.

“NO! Jazz wait!”

He ran and ran but no matter how fast or how much he ran he could never catch up and the distance between them only seemed to grow larger.

“Jazz! Please wait, don’t go!”

_ “Why Prowler?” _

_ “How could ya?” _

_ “Ya let me die… “ _

As he continued to fruitlessly run Jazz’s words echoed around him, taunting him, surrounding him.

Prowl tried to block out the voices as he ran and ran, the words and taunts following him, and no matter how hard and fast he ran he couldn’t seem to get away from them and his lover grew farther and farther away.

Soon the form vanished leaving Prowl alone in the endless void with nothing but the voices for company.

“NO! Don’t leave me Jazz, please don’t leave me!”

But Jazz was gone and Prowl eventually stopped running aimlessly as he fell to his knees, the voices getting louder and louder mixing together in a chaotic cacophony of sound, taunts and words.

Eventually Prowl couldn’t take it anymore and he covered his audios in some hopeless attempt to block them out, screaming for the voices to stop and go away.

But they didn't and soon more voices were added to the mix of accusations and insults. These voices were of Decepticons whose voices he had most likely heard in the past.

_ “Pathetic little Autobot, unable to even save the mech he loves.” _

_ “You couldn’t protect him, you can’t protect anything hahaha” _

_ “You let him die!” _

Prowl curled in on himself as he screamed over and over for them to stop, but it was to no avail.

“Stop it… I’m begging you to stop, please!”

He had no idea how long he was laying there, curled into a ball, screaming at the voices to stop as they continued on and on endlessly… until he felt a servo touch his shoulder and the voices abruptly went silent as he shot his helm up to see who had touched him only to jump back in horror as Jazzs mangled for appeared in front of him.

He stared in terror as the mangled frame stepped closer to him with energon and wires gushing out of it. As the form got closer Prowl crawled backwards further and further but it continued getting closer and closer… 

Then Prowl felt another servo on his shoulder and he snapped his helm around, screaming in fright as Jazzs dead optics stared at him.

_ “Why Prowler? Why did you let me die?” _

_ \------------------------------------------------------------------------ _

Prowl shot up in his berth panting heavily and in a cold sweat, his optics wide, bright and wild as his helm moved sharply back and forth scanning his room for any sign of his mangled lover.

As he started to at last calm down several breems later he realised that whatever that was, it had to have been just a dream.

Even after realising this, Jazzs butchered form continued to flash in his mind and the words and voices continued to echo in the back of his processor restlessly.

It wasn’t until joors later that Prowl managed to stop thinking about that dream and those words just enough to push himself out of his berth, standing up and forcing down a cube of medium-grade energon even those it tasted like slag warmed over and was utterly disgusting.

Once he finished the cube Prowl left his room with all of his few possessions that comprised solely of the few things he had, had in his subspace when he has left Iacon, the dagger he had found and the silver visor that he had bought.

It was time he left Tygar Pax before the Autobots found him… also after his dream Prowl didn’t want to stay here any longer.

Prowl reached the ground floor and headed into the reception area and to the front desk where the owner was sat going through something on a datapad.

The mech jumped when he spoke as he had walked silently and the mech hadn’t heard him approaching.

“I’m here to give back my room key as I will be moving on now.”

The scrawny owner seemed unable to stop staring at him for several kliks as Prowl waited impatiently for his response, which eventually came.

“Ah uh… yes thank you. I hope you enjoyed your stay aside from the uh...incident in the bar.”

“Yes it was… pleasant. Thank you for your hospitality.”

After the owner took his room key Prowl turned and walked out of the dingy establishment without another word.

However, unbeknownst to him the owner watched him go as, compared to his previous interactions with the mysterious black and white mech, something felt noticeably… off, like something had changed and whatever it was unsettled the owner who couldn’t contain a shudder as he watched the retreating form.

When Prowl had exited the building he transformed on the road and sped away leaving the rusting hotel behind.

“So where we off ta know Prowler?”

Prowl didn’t even twitch at the sound of his lover next to him nor his appearance in a shimmery form.

“We’re heading to Praxus.”

“Oooh sweet, I love Praxus.”

Soon after Prowl was leaving the borders of Tygar Pax, easily bypassing the Autobot watchers and heading out into the scorched wastelands beyond.

He drove through the ruined and pot-marked lands without stopping for endless joors until crumbling and collapsed shapes began to form on the horizon, causing Prowl to speed up further as he ignored the protests of his abused frame from the long drives.

It took a further 2 joors before Prowl had reached the outer edges of his home city where he opted to transform and began studying what was before him.

Praxus was once a beautiful and shimmer city full of living mechs, femmes, younglings and sparklings going about their day to day lives and having fun, oblivious to what was going on elsewhere in the world.

The buildings had once stood tall and proud and were breathtaking to look at. Admired by many a mech from all across Cybertron. A magnificent cultural centre full of artists, sculptors, musicians and even more… but by far the most popular and alluring aspect of the city was its famous crystal gardens full of crystals of all shapes, sizes and colours that dazzled and sang their own unique tunes.

But it was all gone now. All because of Megatron and his Decepticons who had laid waste to the city in a matter of joors, hell bent on not letting a single mech, femme or sparkling survive the destruction.

Prowl felt his servos clench into tight fists, denting the metal of his palms as he looked at what little remained of his home.

“It’s such a shame mech. Still can’t believe the ‘cons did this ta Praxus… such a waste.”

Prowl glanced briefly at Jazzs ghostly form before focing his fists to unclench and deciding to head deeper into the former city.

He had some stops to make and the first of those was his old home in the middle of Praxus. Prowl remembered that it was near a park that his creators had frequently took him to when he was only a sparkling.

He climbed over piles of rubble as he neared his childhood home before climbing over one last pile of rubble and stopping in the middle of where it used to be.

There was nothing left here aside from piles of debris along the edges of the space and scorch marks from the bombs that had relentlessly been dropped for joors that orn.

His creators had died during some of the very first bombings, they never even stood a chance and were gone before he had even reached the city with his troops. 

The Decepticons had taken them from him without mercy and nothing he had ever done seemed like enough.

After staying there for a joor thinking about all the happy times he had experienced in this home Prowl decided to move on to his next stop.

He headed to a theatre closer to the innermost ring of the city. Jazz had taken him there before the city had been ruthlessly destroyed, on one of the few times the smaller black and white had managed to convince him to take a short vacation.

They had watched a musical about 2 mechs who had fallen in love. One of the mechs had been a factory worker from the bowels of Kaon, whilst the other had been a high noblemen from Praxus. They would never have been allowed to be together and they knew it, so they decided to run away and elope. Unfortunately, they had gotten gunned down in a raid shortly after. The nobleman's creators had been livid, assuming that the Kaon mech had kidnapped their beloved creation. It was a tragedy.

Being here Prowl couldn’t help but blame himself that he hadn’t spent more time with Jazz, if only he hadn’t been so intent on doing work… maybe they would have had more time together… 

“It’s alright Prowler, am still here.”

Prowl turned his gaze to Jazz and sucked in a sharp invent as the mangled form of Jazz that had been in his dream briefly flashed in front of him and the voices momentarily grew louder.

_ “Ya let me die Prowler… “ _

Prowl shuttered his optics and pressed a servo to his healm for a klik before the voices die down and he looked at his lover again to see Jazz was back to normal and he shook his helm before he chose to head for his next and final stop.

He headed to the dead centre of the city where the crystals gardens had used to reside.

When he got there Prowl looked around, replacing the ruined devastation with what the gardens had used to look like before the city had gone up in flames.

He remembered coming here often when he was an enforcer on his  days off and reading on a bench surrounded by the colourful and humming crystals, relaxing under the glowing crystals as they seemed to take away all of his stress and worries.

He had brung Jazz here once on his lovers first ever visit to Praxus and the smaller black and white had been in utter awe of the large crystal formation. He had even begun to hum along with the crystals tunes, resonating with them. Jazz had said that the tunes reminded him of a lullaby his creators used to sing to him when he was a sparkling.

_ ‘How did that go again?’ _

“Like this Prowler.”

Prowl shifted his gaze to watch his lover as he opened his mouth and sang the lullaby.

“Hush my little mech, I’ll sing you a song, a song that will keep the bad dreams away, hush my little mech, please don’t cry, I’ll sing you this lullaby to keep the dark away.”

When Jazz was done Prowl shifted his optics away to once again stare at the gardens.

Prowl had never really understood that lullaby, it had always sounded… eerie to him but Jazz had seemed to like it and said it reminded him of his creators so he never voiced this.

Strangely enough even after he had looked away Jazz continue to sing that eerie lullaby and Prowl just glanced at him curiously. In response Jazz just grinned and continued singing as he circled Prowl before stopping in front of him and pointing off to the side.

Prowl followed the finger only to find himself staring at a Decepticon coming out from between what remained of 2 buildings.

Prowl stared at the mech, unmoving as Jazz continued his lullaby and his focus seemed to zero in on the ‘con. The mech hadn’t seemed to notice him eyt but it was only a matter of time and Prowl knew that he really should be sneaking away but he was frozen in place, hsi spark pulsing harder in his chest.

Then as expected the ‘con noticed him standing there and at first an expression of surprise flitted across his face before being replaced with a smug smirk that was characteristic of a Decepticon.

“Well, well what do we have here? A lost little mech who’s strayed too far from home.”

Prowl didn’t say anything and merely continued to stare as the mech drew closer, pulling out a weapon and waving it around carelessly.

“What? Too afraid to speak, do you want your creators or something? Hah such a little sparkling.”

The mech never ceased his talking nor his senseless taunts but the words were turning into garbled static in his audios. The lullaby Jazz was singing seemed to change slightly, turning into a more haunted sound that wound around his processor and rang in his helm.

Prowl wasn’t sure why but the lullaby ringing in his helm seemed to stir up memories of Jazzs mangled and broken frame laying in the medbay and of it getting closer to him in his dream. Soon after Prowl found himself clutching at his audios much like he had in the dream as the voices that had been lingering and echoing in the back of his processor since the previous night started to once again get louder and louder.

He started to mutter to himself for them to stop and go away as he clutched at his audios hard enough that they were starting to dent and the pain was scratching off.

The voices, the haunting lullaby, they were all he could hear. The deformed, mangled and broken form of his lover were all he could see and just when they were about to consume him something spoke right next to his audio, the voice of his lover dripping with poisoned sweetness and dark temptation.

_ “Give in Prowler… let it consume you, stop resisting… and kill, for revenge, for me… kill.” _

And he did, something in him that had been pulling more and more taunt like a tension wire pulled too tight, snapped and he welcomed it all… he supposed it was inevitable… right?

Prowls arms suddenly dropped, limp, to his sides and his struggled stopped, his head bowed.

The ‘con was confused but in the end figured he had given up and once close enough, lifted his weapon and shot at the former Autobot.

He wasn’t expecting Prowl to sidestep his shot and lunge for him knocking the wind out of him and pinning him to the ground with surprising strength.

You see, Prowl had given up, just not in the way the ‘con thought but rather had given up resisting the urges that have been steadily growing in him since his lover was taken from him… but it was too late for the ‘con to realise this and escape.

Prowl threw the ‘cons weapon away and reached into his subspace, grabbing the hilt of the dagger as his helm rose to stare into the ‘cons optics.

Prowls optics flashed as he plunged the dagger into the ‘cons chest, just to left of his spark.

“You… you’re one of them, you took away what mattered most to me, you took away my city, my family… and you took away Jazz.”

The ‘con stared into the bright and wild optics of the mech above him. He thought the black and white mech would have been an easy kill and play thing, but he was very much mistaken. The ‘con stared helplessly into those wild optics and for the first time in a long time felt some kind of instinctual fear thrum in his spark.

The ‘con couldn’t utter a word however as Prowl proceeded to do to him exactly what they had done to his lover and tore him limb from limb.

The ‘cons screams of pain echoing around the dead city, heard by none.

Prowl didn’t stop until the screams died down and the ‘con fell silent with one last garble of static, his optics going dark.

Prowl stood and stared down at the energon covered ground. A splash of bright colour in the grey and black landscape.

He lifted the energon covered dagger to his mouth and licked the energon off of it. It was just as delicious as the energon he had had in that abandoned rest stop, far tastier than the slag he had forced down that morning.

Prowl proceeded to step over the body, leaving the mess behind him as he walked away, pulling out the silver visor from his subspace and staring at it, lost in thought until Jazz spoke.

“So what ya gonna do next Prowler?”

Prowl slotted the visor into place over his icy optics as he looked at his lover and spoke coming to a decision.

“I will make them pay for taking you away from me Jazz.”

“Sounds like a blast Prowler!”

Prowl locked optics with Jazz, shimmery blue visor meeting his new silver visor as he smiled warmly in response to the grin adorning Jazzs face.

“Yes it does Jazz.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... am I supposed to be sorry for what I did to Prowl? xd Thanks for reading and please kudos and comment if you enjoyed I love eacha dn every one of them and am always glad to hear wat you think of the story so far :)

**Author's Note:**

> Please kudos and comment if you enjoy this story they are all very much enjoyed and appreciated.


End file.
